Work Text:
𓃺
When Yeonjun gets back to their shared home, pink patches have gathered on a corner of the sky. There are two big boxes set in the doorway; he almost trips over them when he kicks his shoes off. They still need to unbox them soon; maybe tomorrow, when Yeonjun finally has some time off, perhaps.
He stinks of champagne, a weird mix of perfumes, and the lingering scent of smoke. He knows he should take a shower, but his back longs for the bed.
Snowdrop is chewing on her paw, perched gracefully on the armrest. Yeonjun scoops her up, despite her tiny protests, and gives her small, round forehead million little kisses.
The bedroom door sits open; Yeonjun can make out a slice of Soobin’s back, cocooned in the blanket. Yeonjun smiles; he removes his tie, slips off his shirt, not bothering to put on pajamas. Soobin forgot to draw the blinds before he went to bed; the pale morning sun kisses the high of his cheek, coloring it a peachy, pink hue. His snoring is even, echoing through the space like bees; it’s a little bit loud, but Yeonjun can’t now sleep without it.
Soobin’s body is taking almost over the bed, his limbs spilling onto Yeonjun’s side. Yeonjun just smiles, and squeezes in the small, empty space.
Even in sleep, Soobin’s arms still find Yeonjun’s waist. His breath is laced with sleep, but Yeonjun doesn’t mind. He cups Soobin’s face and kisses Soobin’s cheek. One more, one more.
“You just got home?” Soobin whispers, partly awake.
“Yeah. Did I wake you up? Sorry. I always come home so late,” he can hear himself smiling, melting. “It’s been insanely busy. Jungkook’s marketing campaign is actually paying off.”
“Is he tiring you out? Should I talk to him?’” Soobin says, eyes still shut. Yeonjun still thinks that Soobin is the sweetest person that he has ever met, after all this time. He kisses Soobin's eyelid, dazed.
“If you do, ask him to transfer Chaewon to the new bar,” Yeonjun says. “I miss working with her.”
“Why? There’s no one dropping glasses all over the place?”
“Yeah,” Yeonjun laughs. “Is it weird that I kinda miss that now?”
“You’re so silly,” Soobin says, pulling Yeonjun to his chest. Yeonjun can make out the shampoo that they share, the faint notes of raspberry. He isn’t sure if he’s reeking too much, but Soobin is kissing the crown of his head and still hasn’t said anything, so Yeonjun deflates.
“I miss you,” Soobin just says, quiet. Soobin’s chest is a source of warmth against his own. Soobin’s hand slips to the small of his back, tapping softly. “Go to sleep, Yeonjun. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Yeonjun closes his eyes and lets the sound of Soobin’s heartbeat lull him to sleep. “I miss you too,” he says, low, and feels a kiss placed on his cheek, chaste, earnest. In his sleep, Yeonjun dreams of flower meadows and vast, clear summer skies.
𓃺
The first time that they have a serious argument is five months into the relationship. Soobin wants Yeonjun to quit smoking, and Yeonjun, as he always is, remains too stubborn about it.
“I care for you, Yeonjun,” Soobin says, face calm, even when his voice shakes a little. “It’s just that… on days when you go through an entire pack, I seriously don’t know what to do. You mean a lot to me. I just don’t want to see you like this.”
“I know it's bad, Soobin. You don't have to tell me,” Yeonjun says. Between his fingers, the cigarette dies. Yeonjun knows best. He’s been wanting to quit for the longest time. But this feels like Soobin is opening him up and picking out all the terrible parts, and it’s a tender wound that Yeonjun has been ignoring for years.
“But I don’t like that you’re controlling my habits,” Yeonjun continues, bitter. Soobin’s face crunches up. Soobin would hate it, to be called controlling, but Yeonjun couldn’t help himself. Self-sabotage, he has it in spades. “Don’t force me to change for your sake.”
The evening is cold on his cheeks, and so is Soobin’s stare. He drops the remnant of the cigarette despite how much he wants it. Yeonjun longs for that ease of mind, more than anything right now. He still hasn’t looked at Soobin; he doesn’t dare to.
“Don’t say that,” Soobin says, quiet. His voice sounds… hurt. It cuts in Yeonjun’s chest; the wound reopens, again.
“Soobin,” Yeonjun says. Soobin is staring at his slippers, contemplating. Does Soobin realize, too, that Yeonjun is too much? That Yeonjun is not perfect, and never will be. Yeonjun clears his throat. “I just have so many bad habits. You’re well aware of this. Maybe it’s better if…”
“Don’t you dare finish your sentence, Choi Yeonjun,” Soobin says, stern. When Soobin looks up, his gaze burns. “Of course I’m well aware of your habits, yes. I smoked with you too, didn’t I? The fact that you smoke doesn’t make me like you any less, and it never will, so don’t you dare go there.”
It is sweet; the way that Soobin still reassures him, even in a moment like this. Yeonjun is strangely tender-hearted, all of a sudden. “I–” Yeonjun says. He is out of words. He doesn’t know what to do, but has he ever known otherwise? In a vulnerable, exposed moment, he reaches over and holds Soobin’s hand.
Soobin lets him. Yeonjun’s ego is big, but Soobin deserves more than his stupid ego. “I’m… sorry. You are a health professional, of course you are conscious about these things,” Yeonjun finally says, giving in. It doesn’t sound like he was admitting defeat; his voice is more… broken, raw. “I know that you just want the best for me.”
Soobin stares at their laced hand, and then back at Yeonjun's face. His gaze is fragile. Yeonjun had never seen him this small. He smiles, sad, but earnest. “Yeonjun,” Soobin says. “Don’t say that. I’m the one who should apologize. I’m sorry.”
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Yeonjun says. “I’ve been thinking about quitting for years, Soobin.”
“No, Yeonjun.” Soobin shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that – I don’t want you to change yourself for me. I should have worded it better.”
“What are you talking about? I’m the one who should be more careful with my words. I hurt you.”
“No. It was me, Yeonjun. It was weird for me to comment on your habits. You’re an adult. You know what is good for you and what isn’t. It wasn’t… really not my place to say. I’m sorry.”
“That’s not true, Soobin. You were just looking out for me, you–”
Soobin laughs. He tightens the grip on Yeonjun’s hand and glues their foreheads together. It’s weirdly intimate. It feels… new. Yeonjun doesn’t mind it. “Keep going, Choi Yeonjun. Are you sleepy yet? We can keep saying sorry to each other for the next hour.”
“Stop. I hate you,” Yeonjun says, but he finds himself smiling. “Hey. I’m sorry, again. Really fucking sorry.”
Soobin returns the smile. “I’m really fucking sorry, too. Wow, keep going. I can even do this all night.”
“Kinky,” Yeonjun whispers back. He kisses Soobin, and realizes that his vision has gone blurry. Is he crying? He doesn’t know. This is all so silly; what did they even argue about?
Above them, Soobin’s balcony light blinks once, twice. A car honks down the street below, cutting through the quiet night. There is a song playing somewhere; maybe Mr. Kim’s son is practicing the piano, again. A ballad; it’s nice, serene, the notes receding like waves.
Yeonjun thinks he might already be in love with Soobin.
Soobin kisses him, just a peck on the mouth, and Yeonjun melts into it.
“Don’t say sorry,” Yeonjun says. “You convinced me, somehow. I’ll try to cut back on the smoking. Secondhand smoke isn’t good for your health either.” He presses his lips together, but still couldn’t hide the blooming smile. “Soobin, thank you for the motivation. I think you always know what to say.”
“Try saying that to my patients. They would think you’re crazy.”
“I am crazy,” Yeonjun says. “Didn’t you realize that I just went through every single human emotion in the last ten minutes? Do you still like me?”
Soobin’s eyes glint. “Yeonjun. I am obsessed with you,” Soobin says, earnest, and Yeonjun’s heart swells twice, thrice in size.
𓃺
Jungkook opened a new bar only a few streets away, and somehow trusted Yeonjun enough to let him manage everything, from the drink menu to the layout of the place. Yeonjun has been running it for almost a year now, but he has only been accustomed to it recently; business is always so unpredictable.
It’s good pay, though, so Yeonjun doesn’t mind that the metro line going past it stops at midnight. He tries to tell himself that he enjoys the long walk home, even when the weather gets cold.
One night, Jungkook stops in front of the bar and throws Yeonjun his old motorbike keys; Yeonjun stares at them, back to Jungkook’s face, and then the red motorbike parked by the alleyway.
It’s beautiful. It’s not new, the hard luggage is coated in a muddy, spotty layer of glue. Sticker remnants, Yeonjun thinks, but there is a charm to the way it looks.
“Boss,” Yeonjun says. He turns off the neon lights and locks the door. Jungkook doesn’t say anything. He just winks, leaning against the wall.
Yeonjun sighs. “You know I can’t take this.”
“I’m not giving it to you for free, Yeonjun. I’m letting you borrow it. You can’t keep arriving home at three a.m.”
“Did Soobin tell you that?” Yeonjun asks, and Jungkook shoots him a grin. “Still, I can’t take it.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Jungkook frowns. “Do you not like this model? I have another spare one that you can take. I think Jimin is using it, though, but he won’t mind switching. I'll send him a text.”
“No, no, that’s not what I mean,” Yeonjun says. “I just don’t want to owe you anything.”
“Owe me? Yeonjun, I owe you one. Do you know that the money this bar makes can buy five of this model each month? It’s not a big deal, really.” Jungkook gasps, but his voice is warm. “So take it, Yeonjun. Consider it my gratitude. I’m nothing without you.”
Yeonjun’s cheeks flush. He clutches the keys a little bit tighter, feeling the shape around his palm. He’s still having a hard time accepting kindness, but it has been easier these days. He has Soobin to thank for it.
“I– I don’t really know what to say,” Yeonjun says, honest.
“Okay. Then don’t say anything. Go home to your boyfriend. It’s late,” Jungkook says, patting Yeonjun’s shoulder.
“Thank you, really. But I’ll return this to you as soon as I find a replacement,” Yeonjun says, feeling the weight of the keys in his hand. He climbs onto the motorbike and shifts around the seat. It’s nice, comfortable. Maybe he can take Soobin around sometimes when he has some free time; a trip to Soobin’s hometown, perhaps.
Jungkook’s lips curve up into a smile. “Well. Do you like it?”
Yeonjun nods. “I love it.”
“Okay. Get home safe,” Jungkook nods, and Yeonjun finally admits that he really, really loves his job.
𓃺
Yeonjun should have realized sooner that Soobin just couldn’t shut up when it comes to certain things. It is charming, the way that he is always too worked up over a movie, a game, anything that he’s fixated on.
It’s Soobin’s place this time, because Soobin has the latest TV model with sleek screen and high resolution. Soobin’s hands are drawing comically in the air, and Yeonjun watches Soobin’s lips perk up in awe.
“You know what?” Soobin sits hopelessly on the couch, gaze still fixed on the credits. “What the fuck did we just watch? The plot just didn’t make any sense. It was like, they threw a bunch of random scenes together and called it a day? Also, did you notice that the main character had no personality whatsoever? And then, what was that plot twist? The ending was so ridiculous, oh my god. It didn’t provide any resolution. That just fills me with so much rage.”
Yeonjun laughs. Soobin’s cheeks are red. He's so adorable, even in the way that he’s having a whole discussion with himself. How can he not be out of breath? How can someone never run out of words?
“At least the acting was okay?” Yeonjun says, fond.
“Okay?” Soobin groans. “Like, okay, they knew who to cast for which role and whatever but, that great acting couldn’t even save the script. The dialogue was so pretentious. They were trying really hard to be deep and meaningful but there was no substance behind anything whatsoever. It was just a bunch of poetic words that rang hollow in the ears. Couldn’t they at least put a little heart into it? I don’t really get these kinds of arthouse movies, I’ll have to be honest with you. No wonder they always remain indie.”
Yeonjun is silent. Soobin’s palms are still open, mid-air. His glasses are falling off his nose, and he looks at Yeonjun with a bewildered, lost gaze. Yeonjun feels it, the flutterings in his chest. He is sure about it this time.
“Soobin,” Yeonjun says after a while. “I love you.”
“What?” Soobin’s eyes widen. He immediately swallows, and wipes imaginary water off his mouth. His cheeks grow pink, peaches in season.
“I love you.”
“I– Yeonjun,” Soobin turns to him. He wraps his arms around Yeonjun’s waist and pulls Yeonjun on his lap. “Holy shit. What? I love you too.”
Yeonjun hides his laugh behind his hand, and his bashfulness too. This is embarrassing; this feels like first love all over again. “What’s with the stuttering? You don’t sound so sure.”
“No, no,” Soobin says, gentle. “I love you.” His voice is sweet. Lovely, the softest sound. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just didn’t expect you to say it when I was bitching about that stupid movie.”
“But when is a better time to say it?”
“Now,” Soobin says, drawing circles on Yeonjun’s chest, where Yeonjun’s heart is beating so fast, so loud. Soobin’s voice is laced with mischief. “Now is a better time to say it.”
“You just want to hear it again,” Yeonjun says, feigning annoyance. When he leans down and kisses Soobin, he whispers into their shared breath I love yous.
𓃺
Beomgyu takes on shifts at the new bar sometimes, but the drink menu here always stresses him out. Halfway through his shift, Beomgyu clutches at his hair and unbuttons his shirt. His face looks like he just ate sour candy.
“Wanna go for a smoke?” Beomgyu asks. “I think Kazuha can survive on her own for five minutes.”
Yeonjun laughs. He cuffs his sleeves as he pours more ice into the bucket. “I quit smoking, Beomgyu.”
“Holy shit?”
“Well, I get a cigarette as a treat once in a while, but I don’t chain-smoke to doom every day anymore.”
Beomgyu is still in awe. “Yeonjun, seriously, who the fuck are you?”
“I’m still me,” Yeonjun says, running his cold fingers through his hair. “I just wanted to incorporate some new changes into my life.”
“New changes, huh?” Beomgyu’s eyes roll up to the ceiling. “Have you tried being fucked in the ass?”
“Beomgyu.” Yeonjun’s face flushes. Beomgyu shoots him a grin full of teeth.
“I’m still going for a smoke though,” Beomgyu says. “Have fun with your newfound lifestyle. You’re so admirable, Yeonjun. People like you are making the world a better place.”
“I fucking hate you,” Yeonjun says, and Beomgyu flips him off as he unwraps his apron and sprints towards the back door.
𓃺
Sometimes, Yeonjun gets a day off on the weekend; it’s a rare occasion, really, because the bar is still new and there are a million things for them to sort out. He trusts Jungkook when he’s away, but it doesn’t help the frown on his forehead.
“Is everything alright? You don’t need to come in, right?”
“No,” Yeonjun smiles. “Kazuha messed up the admin code so the system shut down, her scattered brain. Jungkook got it under control.”
“Okay,” Soobin smiles, dimples glinting, eyes crinkling up into crescents. Yeonjun pushes the cart for Soobin to place in some cornstarch and two servings of pork cutlet. Yeonjun’s frown lifts.
“What’s for dinner? You still haven’t told me.”
“Shhh. Be patient. You’re going to know soon,” Soobin replies, smug. Yeonjun feigns annoyance, but when Soobin starts moving, he still follows hopelessly like an affectionate, devoted cat. He watches Soobin pick out different sauce packages and thoroughly read the ingredients, while biting his lips very hard as he makes a decision. It’s cute, the way that he’s seriously contemplating demi-glaces, out of all things.
This dinner, their shared time together, must mean a lot to Soobin.
It makes Yeonjun a little sad.
In the parking lot, when Yeonjun helps load the groceries into the back of Soobin’s car, his chest clutches with an odd discomfort.
“Soobin,” Yeonjun murmurs. “Are you not sad that we don’t get to do this more often?”
“Do what?”
“Things like these. Sharing grocery weight. Dinner date. Laundry, whatever.”
Soobin just smiles; he laces their hands together and pulls Yeonjun into his chest. “No. I have the rest of my life to do these things with you.”
“Don’t say things like that,” Yeonjun bites his lip. He’s glad that Soobin can’t see his face, because Soobin would hate the frown on his forehead, the creases under Yeonjun’s mouth. Because, deep down, Yeonjun still has a fear that maybe, this wouldn’t last. That somehow, along the line, Soobin would see Yeonjun’s ugly wound and the love would stop. He’s scared that nothing is forever.
He has loved anyone like Soobin before, and that terrifies him even more.
“What? Did that make your heart flutter?” Soobin says, tightening the embrace, as if afraid that Yeonjun might slip out.
“Worse,” Yeonjun says, and Soobin laughs. He thinks Soobin isn’t really getting what he means, because Soobin’s smile is still plastered there, radiant, bright. But it’s alright. It’s better if Soobin doesn’t know about it; this weight, Yeonjun can carry on his own.
𓃺
“It’s okay to be scared of these things,” Taehyun says one evening. It’s quiet today; only two tables are occupied. The few patrons sitting at the bar glance in his direction. Yeonjun gets it; it’s a weird sight when a bartender gets comforted.
But Yeonjun needs this today. He adds a large ice cube into the mixture of muddled sugar and bitters, pours in the bourbon, then gives everything a stir. He garnishes it with a strip of orange peel and places it in front of Taehyun.
Taehyun sighs. “You’re human, after all. You’re not immune to it.” He watches Yeonjun with doe eyes and twirls the cup in his hand. His gaze is analyzing. “He means a lot to you, that’s why you’re scared of losing him. It’s normal, Yeonjun, don’t be embarrassed.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” Yeonjun says. He is a little bit embarrassed, actually, because Taehyun sees right through him. Being seen is a mortifying ordeal. “I’m going crazy.”
“Then stop thinking about it.”
“Try telling that to my brain!”
“Well,” Taehyun sighs. He takes a sip of his drink and goes silent for a while. “Your time with him is precious. That’s why you shouldn’t waste it obsessing over the end. If it ends, it ends, what else can you do about it?”
“If it ends, it ends?” Yeonjun rolls his eyes. “You’re not making this any better, Kang Taehyun.”
“I'm not finished,” Taehyun says. His index finger taps against the rim of the glass. Clink, clink. “Yeonjun,” Taehyun finally says. “What if this lasts, have you thought about that?”
Yeonjun thinks about it for a second. “No," he says, hoarse. "Not at all.”
“Then try thinking that this will last for the rest of your life. You’ll move in with him, marry him, knock him up, whatever. You’ll grow old with him, and you’ll find the wrinkles on his face beautiful. Think about it like that, because then you will be glad you didn't waste your precious time obsessing over something that didn't ever happen.”
It is a simple revelation, but why has it never crossed his mind before? Has he been too in his own head, again? “Thanks, Taehyun,” Yeonjun swallows. “Maybe I need a shift in perspective.”
“Everyone needs one, once in a while,” Taehyun says. He stares at the glass in his hand and he seems a little smaller, shrinking in size. Yeonjun scoots closer, leaning against the table.
“Tell me about that guy,” Yeonjun says. “Maybe I can also offer you a perspective shift in return.”
“We can always do that for each other, can’t we?” Taehyun smiles at him. Yeonjun places his hand on top of Taehyun’s, and nods.
What if this lasts, have you thought about that? Yeonjun thinks about it the entire time he closes the bar, on his way back to the apartment, when he climbs up the dusty stairs, too. At his door, Snowdrop is already waiting, her tail curves up like a question mark. Yeonjun pets her tiny head, and tries to find the keys in his bag before Soobin’s door suddenly slams open.
“You just got back?” Soobin says, sleepy. He’s in his pajamas; his hair is all tousled up. The smile is soft around the edges as he wipes sleep off his face.
“Yeah, just minutes ago,” Yeonjun says, dazed.
“How was the walk home?”
“Not bad, but I accidentally walked behind a girl and she was quite spooked about it, so I crossed the street and pretended to be on the phone with my boyfriend.”
“You should have called your boyfriend for real,” Soobin says, sauntering closer and holding Yeonjun’s waist. “You could have kept me up.”
“Soobin,” Yeonjun gasps, slapping Soobin’s chest. “Have you been waiting for me again?”
“Yes,” Soobin says, pointing to his couch. A blanket drapes haphazardly over it, almost sliding to the floor. The pillow has already fallen off; it sits lazily on the carpet.
“Soobin,” Yeonjun swoons. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were waiting. I took the long way home.”
“Shhh,” Soobin says, pressing a finger to Yeonjun’s lips. “Don’t say sorry. It’s something I’m willing to do.” He looks at Yeonjun for a while, gaze warm, and places a kiss on Yeonjun’s temple. “Besides, sleep is better with you by my side.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Yeonjun says, but his cheeks are warm. He lets Soobin tug him to bed while still in his uniform clothes, his house keys forgotten at the bottom of his bag.
“Do you still have my pajamas?” Yeonjun asks when Soobin slings an arm over his frame.
“It’s in the wash,” Soobin says, eyes heavy with sleep.
“I still need to get back home. I need to change, Soobin,” Yeonjun says, but Soobin just shushes him. Yeonjun laughs; he reaches over and places his hand on Soobin’s cheek, feeling the warmth.
“But if you go home, then how can I sleep?” Soobin says, but it comes out more like a whine. Yeonjun sighs; maybe he’ll try to take off his outer clothes, later; that’ll make do. But now, Yeonjun doesn’t want to move; he’s just lying there, running his hand through Soobin’s hair as he watches Soobin slowly drift to sleep. He’d do anything to stay like this for a while.
By the time Yeonjun wakes up, he’s still in his outside clothes. Soobin is sitting on the bed, glasses falling off his nose. He’s playing a video game on his phone. A cup of tea is set on the nightstand. Mint.
“Sorry,” Soobin says. “Did I wake you up? Were the sounds too loud?”
“I could barely hear a thing,” Yeonjun says. The pants are rubbing against his inner thighs. “Ah. I should have gone home and changed earlier. What time is it now?”
“Six. I’ll leave for work in a bit,” Soobin says, pointing to the pajamas set at the foot of the bed. “Change and go back to sleep. You’re not going anywhere.”
Yeonjun blinks. He slides out of his pants and starts putting on Soobin’s pajamas. It’s soft, dryer warm. Yeonjun likes it, the way that it feels like a hug against his skin.
“Sorry,” Soobin says, video game paused. He looks when Yeonjun changes, and Yeonjun feels a strange bashfulness. It’s weird, because they’re not unfamiliar with each other’s nakedness. “I should have changed you this morning, but I didn’t want to wake you up. You seemed like you were having a very good dream.”
“It’s okay,” Yeonjun says, looking away, skittish. “You said sorry too fast, because I’m stealing this pajama set.”
Soobin’s face stiffens for a second, as if pondering really hard about something. “Yeonjun,” he finally says, calm. “I think I have a solution for this problem.”
“Huh?”
“Move in with me.”
“What?” Yeonjun stops buttoning his top and climbs back onto the bed. Did he hear it correctly? “What did you just say?”
“Move in with me. Then you can steal my pajamas all the time, and I get to stay with you forever.”
Forever. What if this lasts, have you thought about that? Yeonjun cups Soobin’s face as his brain runs numb. Soobin places his hands on Yeonjun’s smaller ones and caresses Yeonjun’s fingers, a smile blooming on his lips.
“Please,” Soobin says, lips perking up into a small pout. “We’ll get to have sleepover every day? Doesn’t that sound wonderful to you?”
“Soobin, I literally live next door.”
“Not close enough.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Yeonjun says, but he thinks it comes off as fond.
“Please. My lease is up soon. You can think about it. We have time.”
Yeonjun thinks about it for a moment. Even if he has time to consider, it's not likely that his answer will change. “Okay,” Yeonjun says, determined. “Then can we take Snowdrop with us too?”
“Really?” Soobin’s eyes widen. His arms drop to Yeonjun’s waist as he enfolds Yeonjun in an embrace, steady, absolute. Yeonjun’s body deflates, melts, floats away. He feels like a wispy strand of cloud.
“Of course,” Yeonjun says into Soobin’s neck.
“Okay. Then I’ll start my search on rental websites soon.”
𓃺
Soon turns out to be that night, after Yeonjun finished work. Dinner is already waiting for him on the table, noodles, and instant dumplings Soobin got last week. Soobin stays up with him, despite having work in five more hours. On Soobin’s tablet, there is a list of all the places that he has gathered, sorted by prices and location.
“What do you think about this place?” Soobin says, pointing to an apartment that he has bookmarked, liked, and shared. “I passed by the building sometimes. It’s actually quite near here, on the main street. It seems nice. The windows are child-proofed, so we don’t have to worry about Snowdrop falling off at all. There is quite some space on the balcony too, if you want to grow the mini balcony garden that you have always dreamed of. I'd love to have a lemon tree there too. Infinite lemonade, wouldn’t that be so cool?”
“Soobin?”
“Oh. They have a communal garden too,” Soobin says, still swiping through the photos. “Snowdrop is an outdoor cat, though, so it might be difficult for her to be contained in a closed space. We can let her hang out there sometimes? I don’t think they have lilies, so it’s really safe. It’s spacious too. I heard that a few other residents also let their pets roam around. Dogs are muzzled, of course, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Soobin.”
“Ah, wait,” Soobin says. He pushes his glasses up and opens the messages. “I sent a message to the landlord. She’s pretty cool. We talked a lot about knitting? Weird,” Soobin says, scrolling up. “Anyway, the rent is not bad at all, especially for a place like this. Do you still have next Tuesday off? I can pick you up at home and we can go check it out. She told me last week that she would be free in the evening. She’s coming to the city briefly to see her grandkids, I think.”
“Last week. Seriously, Soobin?” Yeonjun mumbles, awe. “How long have you been looking for an apartment?”
Soobin drops the tablet. He rubs the back of his neck and his ears grow pink. “It’s been a while now. I didn’t know how to bring it up, Yeonjun.”
“Soobin,” Yeonjun drops his fork. “You seriously want to move in with me?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Soobin blinks. “Your clothes are in my wash, Yeonjun, and I make you breakfast every day. Well, I defrost your breakfast, anyway,” he smiles, lovely. “Well… I just think that... we have been dating for quite a long time now, haven’t we? And I don’t really see my life without you in it, so yeah… I have been wanting to build a home with you for a while. Fuck. Is this sappy?”
“No. It’s so fucking sweet,” Yeonjun says. His fear dissipates for a second, replaced by a softness that he has never known before. Maybe the wound is healing, Yeonjun thinks. Life is good, life is so fucking good.
“Okay,” Soobin smiles. His ears are still so red, a permanent blush.
“Okay,” Yeonjun says. His stomach is all fuzzy, warm. “Fuck. I’m so fucking in love with you.” He drops his chopsticks and climbs into Soobin’s lap.
Yeonjun’s cheeks hurt, but he can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night, limbs tangled with Soobin under the blanket. The smile is still there in the morning, too, when Soobin has already left for work, equally sleep-deprived but delighted. Yeonjun can barely chew on his lunch, jaw locked and frozen from so much smiling, swelling. He doesn’t think he stops for the rest of his shift, too.
“You’re creepy,” Beomgyu says, disgusted. “Stop that. Be normal.”
“I’m trying really fucking hard to be normal right now,” Yeonjun says, still smiling, lovefooled.
“Can you stop?” Beomgyu scowls. “What is even on your mind?”
New wallpaper. IKEA trips. The leathery smell of new furniture. Home. “Nothing,” Yeonjun replies. “Being fucked in the ass?”
“I’m sorry I asked,” Beomgyu sighs. He removes his apron and Yeonjun nods before Beomgyu can ask for his permission to go for a smoke.
𓃺
They see the place on Tuesday. The ceilings are high and there is a big window that opens up to the city below. From here, Yeonjun could see the river rippling under the sun, the lush garden, the few residents walking their dogs in front of the building.
He likes it. He likes how… lively it is. They could make a life here; with the big bedroom, the spacious, bright kitchen. Soobin can even use the spare room to set up a tiny office; he can even play his silly games there, too.
The landlord seems nice, an old lady who just recently moved to the countryside to live with her seven dogs. Yeonjun doesn’t think that she will be the most reliable when it comes to repairs and maintenance, but at least she isn’t one of those money-hungry, blood-sucking landlords who own hundreds of properties and fleece tenants of their deposit refunds.
The bed is a little old; Yeonjun sits on it as he thinks about the rent. It’s a bit higher than his place right now, but with Yeonjun’s new position, he can actually afford half of it. He could even contribute half to the utilities, too, if he cuts off on online shopping, and his Spotify premium, and his Netflix subscription. Maybe Yeonjun wouldn't mind the ads, or missing out on the latest series. He doesn’t need a new coat this winter, or those pairs of shoes that he has been eyeing, too. It’s not a big sacrifice.
It feels… nice, to be capable of something.
“What’s on your mind?” Soobin asks. When Soobin sits down on the bed, it creaks a little.
“Just… living together, I guess. The rent, and everything else. Where is the lady?”
“She’s talking to her old neighbor,” Soobin says, wrapping his arm around Yeonjun’s shoulder, and Yeonjun nuzzles close. “About the rent, Yeonjun, I don’t think it’s fair if we split the rent in half.”
“Soobin.”
“Equity, not equality, Yeonjun,” Soobin smiles, soft. He leans over and kisses Yeonjun’s temple, whispering into the skin. “Please remember I’m not looking down on you. Fuck. Did I say the wrong thing again?” Soobin says, licking his lip. “Please know that it’s not my intention. I just think that it’s fairer if we split it proportionally based on our incomes. It just feels that we are more of a unit that way. Besides, I offered to move in together, no? I also brought you to this place too. I know you would hate the idea, but it just feels right.”
“Soobin.”
He feels the drop of Soobin’s shoulders. When he looks up, Soobin’s mouth is shaped into a frown. He still doesn’t seem to be out of breath, or out of things to say, though. “Yeonjun. It just makes so much more sense. I know you can afford your part of the rent, but I don’t want you to spread yourself too thin. You can always save the rest of the money or get something nice for yourself, you know? You haven’t done it once in a while.” Soobin lingers for a moment, taking a small gulp of air. “Please. I want to take care of your life too. I don't want you to feel burdened.”
Yeonjun’s frown is still there, but his chest has long turned into mush. “Soobin, seriously?” Yeonjun mumbles. “R.I.P Karl Marx, he would have loved you.”
That makes Soobin laugh. “I don’t need his love. I need yours.” He laces their hands together and brings it to his chest. “Normally people would not pass up a chance like this. Use me, Yeonjun. Why won’t you use me?”
“Why does that sound kind of kinky?” Yeonjun says, fond. It’s so sweet, the way that Soobin always wants to share the weight. Yeonjun hasn’t met anyone like Soobin before. He wants this to last. “Okay. Then I’ll use you.”
“Really?” Soobin’s face lights up, stars in the sky, city lights at night. Yeonjun laughs; his heart feels pillowy, so soft.
“Yes. You are so weird. I literally have never seen someone this happy about being used before." Yeonjun cups Soobin’s face. “But then I’ll put the rest of my money into a joint account, and we’ll save it for a mortgage, or something. No stress. We can think about it as we go.”
“Oh my god. This is the best day of my life,” Soobin says and crushes Yeonjun in a hug. Yeonjun wants to say that it’s the best day of his life, too, because he loves this apartment, he loves his job, and Soobin loves him. For the first time, Yeonjun feels that he is actually going somewhere, that love songs actually make sense, that he’s going to be alright, more than alright. All the rough edges in life are finally softening up. In his chest, there is an eternal spring.
𓃺
He doesn’t take Soobin to his hometown. Instead, there is a hiking trail on the outskirts of town. The ride isn’t long; the wind grazes against Yeonjun’s neck, and then sneaks under his shirt. Soobin holds his waist for the entire ride, warm and tight.
“Did you perk your ass like the girls in the magazines?” Yeonjun says when they park.
“Fuck you,” Soobin says, voice hoarse. He removes his helmet, fluffs his hair up, then takes his glasses from his pocket and puts them on.
“What?” Soobin says as Yeonjun stands still, stunned.
“Did it hurt?”
“Did what hurt?” Soobin frowns. “The pillion seat wasn’t bad at all. Did Jungkook switch out the cushion?”
“No. I meant to ask if it hurt when you fell from heaven.”
“Can you stop flirting with me?”
Yeonjun pouts. “But I have a crush on you.”
“Yeonjun,” Soobin whines. “We are literally dating.”
Yeonjun laughs. He holds Soobin’s hand as they make their way up; their palms are all sweaty but Yeonjun doesn’t mind. The view here is beautiful: vast, blue sky with fluffy clouds; morning light glitters on Soobin’s skin, the canopy above them, the earth. When they walk long enough, Yeonjun can make out the green patchwork underneath, the leaves fluttering delicately in the breeze.
“This is beautiful,” Soobin says when they arrive at the top. Soobin’s half perfect profile seems like it glows, emitting a small, sparkly light, ethereal.
“Yeah,” Yeonjun says, a little bit breathless.
On their way down, there is an old couple sitting by the lake. They must be on their break, sharing a bottle of water while whispering stories into each other’s ears, beaming. Subtly, Yeonjun glances in their direction, and tries to guess how many years they have been together. Twenty, twenty-five, thirty? Do they argue about dirty dishes in the sink? Unironed clothes? Messy bathroom?
Yeonjun has always found it cute, the way that old couples never get bored of each other.
He wants to be like that, Yeonjun thinks. He takes a look at Soobin’s features again, the slope of his nose, his dimpled smile, pillowy cheeks. Soobin is the type that would still look good as he ages; he’s always beautiful, yes, but Yeonjun can’t wait to see how Soobin would settle into his own skin. Time will treat Soobin with reverence, Yeonjun believes. He can’t wait to grow old with Soobin and find the wrinkles on his face beautiful.
“Be careful,” Soobin says, reaching out to hold Yeonjun’s waist. Yeonjun immediately clutches at Soobin’s sleeve as he almost steps on a rock. “Focus, Yeonjun.”
“Sorry. I keep zoning out,” Yeonjun smiles, sheepish. Soobin just laughs, and places a peck on the tip of Yeonjun’s nose.
𓃺
He’s extremely fond of Huening Kai, because Huening Kai is Soobin’s friend. At that point, Yeonjun is sure that he is fond of everything about Soobin.
“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Huening Kai says. Snowdrop is still sleeping on Huening Kai’s lap, curling up as she tries to make herself comfortable, her eyes closed. In the middle of the living room, Soobin is busy figuring out how to install a cat tree that both Kai and Yeonjun have long given up on.
Yeonjun chuckles. “I’ve never seen anyone like him.”
“He’s a bit weird, isn’t he?”
“Weird? I think he’s so cute.”
“Why are couples so insufferable?” Huening Kai groans, but low enough not to jostle the cat. He stares at Soobin’s back for a while, and then beams at Yeonjun. “You know — you make him really happy. He's like a different person since he met you. I’ve never seen him this serious about anything before.”
“I’m glad, Hyuka,” Yeonjun says. He places his hand on Huening Kai’s wrist and taps, just slightly. “I hope that one day, you’ll be insufferable like us too.”
“No, I won't.”
Yeonjun lets out a soft chuckle. “Well. Isn’t yearning more insufferable than this? What about the guy that you’re mooning over?”
Huening Kai’s face scrunches up cutely. Yeonjun watches his muscles move with admiration, and leans back on their new couch. In his hands, he nurses the shared cup that they just bought together a couple of days ago. It feels nice like this, settling into their new home.
Their new home. The words wrap around him. The pit of Yeonjun’s stomach is warm, as if he were cocooning in a thick blanket on a mellow winter day.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Soobin’s voice hovers above him. When Yeonjun looks up, the cat tree is already done. It looks beautiful, like it has always belonged there.
“Oh. Did I look dazed?” Yeonjun asks. He scoots over and makes space for Soobin, who just folds his big body in halves so he can fit onto the couch. Tentatively, Soobin places his head on Yeonjun’s shoulder, matching Yeonjun's size. “Sorry. I think I was a bit carried away.”
“Never change, Yeonjun. It’s cute when you do that,” Soobin says, nuzzling against Yeonjun’s neck. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Ah. Hyuka’s neighbor,” Yeonjun glances at Huening Kai, winking. “I think someone is a little bit head over heels.”
“He’s just so weird.” Huening Kai flails his hands, and stops before he can accidentally knock Snowdrop over. “Did I mention that he never wears a shirt?”
“Interesting.” Soobin nods. “No, but you mentioned that he works out. He has a hot body, doesn’t he? You don’t even care about the fact that he is weird.”
“Well. He’s hot and weird.” Huening Kai groans and Yeonjun’s smile widens. Next to him, Soobin sneaks a hand under his shirt, as they both listen to Huening Kai’s ranting, pining, mooning, on their shared couch, in their shared home.
Yeonjun loves this. He loves Soobin.
He loves love.
𓃺
The first month passes with a fair share of ups and downs. It’s always the laundry; Soobin wants to separate the colors and whites, but Yeonjun just couldn’t care less. Yeonjun learns that Soobin doesn’t really know how to recycle properly: he always throws the pizza boxes in the cardboard pile, and it drives Yeonjun up the wall. I just want to believe!!!!! Soobin would say, and Yeonjun would just roll his eyes (so fond), and go over the recycle chart once again.
It doesn’t get better than that. Soobin lets the dishes pile up, and Yeonjun adds more to them after his very late dinner, too tired to bother. Sometimes, Yeonjun forgets to put the leftovers in the fridge when he snacks after work, and Soobin always ends up looking at him with disappointed eyes in the morning. Their house is a mess, and they disagree on the simplest things, Snowdrop’s feeding time, whose turn to do the dishes, what to have for dinner, et cetera. But in the morning, when Yeonjun climbs into bed and Soobin is always there, next to him, smiling, Yeonjun thinks that the world is sweet and beautiful and soft around the edges.
It’s not a smooth journey, Yeonjun knows, but everything is so fucking good. They don’t fit like two puzzle pieces, or like two peas in one pod. They fit like two… awkward lovers trying to figure out how to do this thing together, while learning how to be careful with each other’s hearts. There will always be dirty dishes in the sink, mismatched clothes in the wash, apologies, many apologies, but Yeonjun would never trade this for anything else on this earth.
Life is good. Life is so fucking good.
𓃺
When Yeonjun wakes up, there aren’t meadows of flowers and vast, clear summer skies. Instead, Soobin’s face fills his vision, a beautiful sight. Yeonjun thinks he prefers this scenery anyway.
The hints of raspberry are still there, sweet in the air. Soobin kisses his cheek, and then nuzzles against the column of his neck.
“What are you doing?” Yeonjun asks. It’s kind of ticklish, but it feels nice. Being close to Soobin is always nice.
“Sniffing you.”
“Are you in heat?” Yeonjun laughs, and Soobin pouts, before rubbing his nose against Yeonjun’s skin, again. Yeonjun rolls his eyes and wraps his arm around Soobin’s waist, as he tries to wrestle Soobin to the other side of the bed. He stops when a loud crack echoes in the room.
When he finally comprehends the situation, the legs of the bed have already snapped in halves; the mattress collapses on the floor. Thump.
Yeonjun is silent for a moment, stunned.
“Oops?” Yeonjun says, half-smiling, half-crying.
“Oh my god,” Soobin says, chortling a little. “I always knew that this bed was fucked up anyway. It always made so much noise whenever I shifted.”
Yeonjun feels himself laughing, too. “That’s too bad. Well. At least we finished sleeping now?”
Soobin hums. He brushes a strand of hair out of Yeonjun’s face and kisses Yeonjun’s forehead. “Well. Wanna go on an IKEA adventure today? You don’t have work anyway.”
“IKEA’s bed frames are terrible, Soobin,” Yeonjun says, but who is he to turn down an IKEA trip? Yeonjun wants meatballs, and a cinnamon roll. He wants to bounce on very nice beds with Soobin by his side.
“It’s alright,” Soobin says, sweet. “Then we get something to complain about together.”
“Okay, we can go after I shower and take out the trash.”
“It’s full again?”
“It’s always full,” Yeonjun says. And maybe their bed will always be flimsy. It’s alright; Yeonjun has long come to the conclusion that what they have isn’t entirely perfect.
But here Soobin is, kissing the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth with imperfect aim as they stumble around their imperfect bed, still laughing. Yeonjun thinks that he loves this imperfect life, because Soobin is in it. Today, tomorrow, forever.
They never need perfection, anyway.